


Full Moon Academy

by dirkygoodness



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Canonical Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, Supernatural AU - Freeform, vampires and werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 22:27:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18082097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirkygoodness/pseuds/dirkygoodness
Summary: Forty-three women around the world gave birth to supernatural children, even though they had no knowledge or relations to supernatural people. To make it even stranger, none of them had been pregnant when the day first began.Reginald Hargreeves, self proclaimed supernatural expert, made it his mission to … 'adopt’ these children. He got seven of them - and luckily for him, they all happened to be the first and last werewolves to be born in three hundred years.-------A family full of werewolves, a cult of vampires, supernatural powers, and the end of the world. What could go wrong?





	Full Moon Academy

**Author's Note:**

> i. had to make this.

Forty-three women around the world gave birth to supernatural children, even though they had no knowledge or relations to supernatural people. To make it even stranger, none of them had been pregnant when the day first began. 

Reginald Hargreeves, self proclaimed supernatural expert, made it his mission to … 'adopt’ these children. He got seven of them - and luckily for him, they all happened to be the first and last werewolves to be born in three hundred years.

\-------

In hindsight, if Klaus had known his dad was going to die and he’d be called about it, he wouldn’t have smoked as much weed. As it was, he ended up laughing at Pogo for a minute solid before getting himself together enough to apologize and confirm he’d go to the funeral. Pogo didn’t sound very excited about that, but Klaus can’t really blame him. 

The news of his death is shocking to none of them, when they hear it. Death by messing with the wrong unknown supernatural plant or creature or whatever when you're a human is to be expected. Especially from someone as reckless as Reginald. 

Luther, who'd been researching the effects of lycanthropy and direct contact with the moon at all times for some fucking reason, had taken it hardest. He always did tend to be a bit of a… suck up. That, and he denied all the bad shit that happened to them the same way he denied his feelings for Allison - which Klaus and everyone in a ten mile radius could see. 

For him, he's delighted. And, a little bit annoyed - with any luck dear old dad would turn into a ghost and haunt his ass until he managed to OD. So far, the family deaths-to-ghosts ratio was a solid one-to-two, so Reggie could go either way. Klaus hoped he stayed dead, seeing as he was the only one who ever managed to  _ see  _ the ghosts. 

Maybe if he'd bother Luther or Diego but - Klaus didn't really feel  _ super  _ keen on him floating around and  _ annoying  _ him constantly. Klaus groans at the thought and tosses a half empty bottle of soda out the window of the uber he was in, earning a withering look from the driver. Klaus gives him a half-assed 'sorry’ wave, rolling his eyes and looking back out the window at the claustrophobia inducing forest. 

The perfect playground for a scientist’s - no, sorry,  _ enthusiast’s  _ pack of super rare orphaned wolf kids. 

Ugh. 

He was going to need something stronger if he was going to last the day. At least he brought his emergency stash of speed. Or was it his back-up? He doesn't remember, but it doesn't really matter, he supposes, ‘cause either way he has it. Klaus doesn’t really know how the rest of his family can stand to be here sober, he can barely stand it  _ high.  _

His eyes catch the unmistakable sight of a sharp, pointed grey roof just barely peeking over the tops of the trees in the distance. It sends a chill of impending doom down Klaus’ spine, making him shiver. Home sweet home. Full of so many fond…  _ horrible  _ memories. 

The closer they get, the more of the house is revealed, and as it does Klaus slowly sinks further down into his seat. He's not seen the house in a while, but it's still an ugly archaic pimple on the otherwise baby-smooth ass of the world.  He's not sure how old it is, vaugelly thinks he remembers Reggie mentioning a number near forty years. Or was it four hundred?

It had big, Victorian style windows in the front, but was made out of old weathered planks of wood. Somehow a perfect amalgamation of gothic and southern architecture. If Klaus hadn't lived here, he might have liked it. But he knows better. Kind of like eating one type of food for years. 

You know it’s good, technically, and you liked it, but being around it for so long makes it taste awful. The uber pulls up to the front of the house, or as close as they can get - the road stopping a good ways from the house, even though you could see it clearly. That, and there was a big, metal gate keeping cars out as well. 

“That’ll be twenty-four dollars,” The driver puts his arm over the seat so he can look at Klaus, who quickly tosses him the (unreasonable, really) cash with a quick ‘thanks’ as he drags himself out of the car. 

Slings his backpack over his shoulder and eyes the house, pushing the car door closed. This was going to be fun. Without waiting to see if he gave the driver the right amount of cash he starts off for the house, slipping around where the gate stops and the path is blocked by trees. 

It’s eerily quiet, the only sounds his feet crunching leaves beneath him and the occasional gust of wind. He’d expect a forest as big as this to at least have  _ one  _ noisy bird in it. It’s… unsettling, to say the least of it. Absently, he starts humming to himself, trying to fill the quiet with  _ something.  _

About halfway to the house he spots a shiny,  _ very  _ expensive car tucked into a small clearing - and, as he looks, he spots an older, ugly grey car parked in front of it. Looks like the rest of the family was here. 

Sure enough, when Klaus finally makes it down the path to the front of the house Diego is leaning up against a porch-support right next to the stairs, running a finger down the edge of the knife blade. Klaus makes a face because, yeah,  _ that’s  _ not creepy at all. 

“You’re late,” Diego says, not even looking up from what he’s doing and Klaus rolls his eyes. Good old Hargreeves family hospitality. 

“Good to see you too, bro,” Klaus snorts, moving up the stairs. Diego finally lifts his eyes, and they burn a golden yellow for a moment, and from experience Klaus knows he's doing it on purpose to look intimidating. But he hasn’t seen turned-eyes in  _ years  _ and it’s more unsettling than it probably should be, so he supposes this time it worked. 

“It’s really  _ not  _ good to see you.” He says back, mouth twisting up in a snarl and Klaus half expects him to have his fangs dropped. He doesn’t, so Klaus supposes he’s not really angry, just being dramatic. He slaps Diego on the shoulder with a bit of a forced smile, adjusting his hold on his backpack, self preservation be damned. 

“Missed you too.” He looks around the porch, making note of the apparent disrepair of it - Reggie must have let the house go after they all left. “Who else is here? I saw a fancy car out front, so I’m  _ assuming  _ it's Allison’s since she's the only one who makes that kinda money.”

“We’re all just waiting for you,” Diego pushes past Klaus, bumping his shoulder painfully as he does, the asshole. He pulls the screen door open with more force than necessary, too, so something must have crawled up his ass and died. And it definitely wasn't dear old dad's death; Diego might even hate the old coot more than Klaus did. 

Klaus winces - he hadn’t thought he’d been  _ this  _ late. He doesn’t have a watch, but he got up pretty soon after the sun came up. Sure, he stopped to get a hit before he came but he doesn’t think he’d been there  _ that  _ long. He follows in after Diego, passing through the immaculate foyer into the living room (apparently Reggie only let the outside of the house go to shit), where the rest of the family is gathered. 

Allison is standing by one of the twin couches, arms crossed, looking less than pleased. Luther is sitting on the couch adjacent to her, playing with the edge of his coat. Klaus blinks, taken aback at the sheer  _ size  _ Luther had managed to pack on. He’s at least twice as tall as when Klaus had last seen him and just as broad. To be fair, he hadn't seen him in nearly ten years. He supposes he could have gone through a… midlife growth spurt. 

Vanya, who Klaus hadn’t actually expected to show up, is at the end of the couch Allison is by, looking as forlorn as ever. Everyone’s eyes draw up to them when they enter, and Klaus gives a little wave with his ‘hello’ hand. He earns a weak smile from Vanya, at least, so he takes that as a plus. Luther clears his throat and stands up the same time as Diego speaks.

“Let’s get this over with.” Diego sounds about impatient as ever, his eyes cutting across everyone's faces in the room. “Since Klaus finally decided to show up.”

“The gang’s all here,” Klaus chirps, flopping down beside Vanya on the couch - probably the safest option, with how tense Luther looks. “Fashionably late as always.” 

Diego leans up against the farthest wall and starts messing with his knife again, because he’s anything if not predictable. 

“Now that we’re all here,” Luther says, drawing Klaus - and everyone else's - attention to him. “We can get started. Pogo says dad didn’t want to be buried out back in the graveyard, wanted us to put him by the big tree out front, his favorite.” 

“Why doesn’t he want to be in the graveyard?” Allison questions, sounding almost offended. 

“He has a favorite tree?” Diego says, at the same time as Allison speaks. They give each other an awkward look, but don’t mention it. 

“Yeah, why have a graveyard if you’re never going to use it. Except to torture your children with, obviously.” Klaus adds, which earns him a scathing look from Luther and an amused snort from Diego. 

He shrugs and tries to look innocent by slumping farther into the couch. When Luther doesn't maim him on the spot he figures he's in the clear.

“Nobody he knows is buried out there; he doesn’t have a real reason to be out there. He likes the spot under the tree.”

_ “Liked.” _ Diego reminds him, pushing up off the wall. “Let’s get this over with, I’ve got places to be.” 

“Patience,” Pogo’s voice filters in through the hallway, where he stands leaning heavily against his cane. “We’re still waiting for your mother. She’s not done recharging.” Instantly Diego's face softens and he nods, waving his knife-holding hand absently.

“How long till she wakes up?” 

“About two hours. We’ll have to do the funeral in the dark, but I think we can all manage that.” Pogo nods to himself, and yeah, they all can do the funeral in the dark. 

But Klaus had been hoping to leave here within the next hour - he hadn’t planned on staying that late. He lets his head drop back with a groan, and waits another second before he slaps his knees and sucks in a breath. 

“Welp,” He pushes himself up, giving a quick once over of the room. “Since the party doesn’t start ‘till dark, I'm going to go take a nap. Get me when it's time to put the old bastard in the ground, will ya?” He doesn't wait around for their answer, booking it as quick as he can back out into the foyer and to the stairs. 

He does hear someone’s angry shout of his name as he goes, and he suspects it’s Luther yelling after him. Klaus ignores it. He  _ is _ going to sleep, after he takes something far stronger than weed so he doesn't have to think about the house, his family, or the graveyard and everything it entails. 

All those ghosts dad had gotten here  _ just for him.  _ What a wonderful birthday present, a bunch of dead people he doesn’t know to scare the shit out of him when all he wanted to do was eat cake. 

Klaus climbs the old, wooden stairs, and follows the familiar path to his room. It’s almost disorienting, being back here, going to his old room. A little like he’d somehow managed to step back in time, sneaking off after a lesson or something else equally stupid to go get high in his room. 

He stops mid-step when he passes one of the rooms, a chill going up his spine. He slowly turns his head and feels something drop heavy in his stomach as he sees the dark, dust filled room. 

_ Five's _ room. 

Klaus winces and tries not to think about it, tries not to remember one of the things he’s tried  _ very  _ hard to bury, but just walking by the room drags the memory to the forefront of his mind.  

They were in the kitchen, and Five had snapped at Reginald - how he had had the  _ balls  _ to do that, Klaus doesn't know.  But, he'd wanted to go hunting at night, by himself. Try and catch  _ real  _ prey instead of the fake deer and drones dad had sent out for them. He wanted to do real stuff, to prove himself.

Reggie wasn't having it, and Five just. Left. Out the back door, into the forest in the pitch dark of the night. Reginald didn't try and stop him, and neither did the rest of them. No one moved to get him, no one moved to follow. Even after dinner, no one tried to see if he was there. 

Klaus wants to think that it's because he was scared of their dad, but he knows it's because he was high. Didn't want to bother when he could ride it instead. Figured Five’d be fine, what’s the worst that could happen? 

Five didn't come back the next morning, and no matter how hard they looked - even Vanya, too human to really help - they couldn't find his trail. Nothing. No sign if him. He was just. Gone. 

Reginald never mentioned it or Five again. 

Klaus lets his head rest with a heavy thump up against the doorframe, closing his eyes against the flood of age-old guilt. He was a kid, a dumb kid who was just trying to ignore the bad shit in his life, but he knows he should have done something. Followed Five, their father, his  _ high _ be damned. Can’t help but think -  _ but know  _ that it’s his fault. 

With his eyes closed, he's unable to see when someone moves in front of him.

“You miss him?” A voice says and Klaus startles, letting out a shriek of terror as he stumbles back away from the room. Floating there, arms crossed and looking bored, is Ben. Klaus gives him a scathing look.

“Seriously?! You can't just sneak up on me like that. Gonna give me a heart attack,” Klaus huffs, clutching his chest. Ben just rolls his eyes and floats closer. “Anyway, how are you here? Didn’t I pawn your ring off like, a week ago?”

“Klaus, you were so high you didn’t even leave your house, just held a conversation with me like you  _ were  _ pawning it off.” 

“Oh.” Klaus looks down at his hand, where he usually wore Ben’s old mood ring he’d given to Ben when they were eleven. He’d stolen it from a dollar store while Reginald wasn’t looking. 

Sure enough, the ring is still on his finger, even though he  _ distinctly  _ remembers selling it to a very nice elderly woman.  Klaus looks back up at Ben skeptically.

“If I didn’t sell it, then why didn’t you show up for a week?” He cocks a brow, putting a hand to his lip as he gives Ben his best ‘oh really?’ face. Ben doesn’t seem at all phased.

“I do have other things to do than hang out with you constantly, Klaus.”

“Like what? You can’t go more than ten feet away from the ring, and no one else can see you.”

“First off,” Ben holds up a finger, finally sounding anything other than monotone as he glares at Klaus. He probably shouldn’t be as pleased as he is, getting Ben ruffled. “I can go at  _ least  _ twenty feet. Second, I’ve told you before, I can slip into another layer of the world and talk to the other ghosts you pass.”    
  
“Oh, give it a rest with the inter-dimensional-traveling bullshit.” Klaus groans and moves to his room, pushing the door open with his foot. It gives an ominous creek as it goes, revealing Klaus’ dark room.

He flicks the light on, wincing at the brightness of the neon pink sign above his bed that reads ‘Psychic Readings’, an eye between the two words. 

“It’s not bullshit, and you know it,” Ben hisses, following him into the room. Klaus fights the sudden urge to toss his ring out the window just to spite him. Instead, he throws his bag on his bed, flopping face first after it with a sigh. “If you weren’t so  _ high  _ all the time you’d see it.”

“ _ Oh _ hoho, we are  _ not  _ starting this conversation again!” Klaus rolls over and shoots Ben a glare, grabbing his bag from beside him. He drags the zipper open and reaches in, trying to fish out his stash. “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do, Ben.”

“You’re going to end up killing yourself one of these days!” 

“Yeah, here’s hoping it’s sooner rather than later,” Klaus touches a plastic bag and gives a triumphant ‘ah-ha!’, pulling it out. Sure enough it’s full of little white pills, about ten - he would have had more but he tapped into his back-up stash not super long ago, and hasn’t had time to refill. 

He pulls out a pill, waving it in Ben’s face for a second before popping it into his mouth. Ben floats there for a moment, face flitting between rage, to annoyance, to tired defeat. He lets out a sigh and just like that, fades away, vanishing from Klaus’ sight. Klaus looks around the room for a moment, half expecting Ben to show back up and give him a lecture - but, when he doesn’t, Klaus just lets out a pleased noise and flops back down against his bed. 

\--

Klaus wakes with a jerk, something smacking painfully against his leg. He lifts his head groggily, squinting down at his feet - which are hanging off the bed - to see Luther standing there. He’s glaring, and Klaus can’t tell why. It’s not like he’s done anything, he  _ told  _ them he was going to sleep. 

He pushes himself up, remark along the lines of face-freezing on the tip of his tongue but stops when his hand clenches around something. He blinks, looking down at it. Ah. He’s still holding his drugs. He looks back at Luther and waves the pills around, a cocksided grin spreading across his face.

“Little pick me up, you know, for the depression. Losing dad has been… so  _ hard.”  _ Klaus lets a pseudo sob slip into his voice at the last word, earning him an eye roll from Luther as he turns and heads out the room.

“Get up, meet us out front. Funeral’s starting.”

“Sure! No problem.” Klaus waves at him as he goes, but once he’s out of sight he groans and lets the pills go, rubbing a hand down his face. 

Damn. 

He hadn’t expected being around his family again to be this  _ exhausting.  _ He wasn’t sure if it was more like walking on eggshells or glass, but either way it sucked. Klaus finally pushes himself up, following Luther downstairs. The main door is still open, when he gets into the foyer, the screen door being the only thing closed. 

So it’s not too much of a shock when he steps out into the cold night air, but it’s still enough so that he hisses and crosses his arms. It’s dark, annoyingly so, and the porch light doesn’t seem to be working - which, wouldn’t be a problem, if he could turn, but he can’t, so Klaus takes his time going down the stairs. 

The rest of the family, Pogo and mom included, are standing a little ways off beneath a large oak tree huddled together in a circle. As Klaus looks up at it, for what must be the first time he’s actually taking it in, he’s overcome with a sense of foreboding. 

He’s not really sure where it’s coming from, and for all he knows it could be the speed, but that doesn’t stop him from giving the tree a wary look as he moves under it. With as dark as it is he can barely see the gnarled, twisted branches above them beyond faint shadows. It only serves to freak him out more but he tries not to mention it, moving to stand beside Diego.  

“Do any of you wish to speak?” Pogo asks, drawing Klaus’ attention away from the tree and back to him. Now that he’s looking, he sees a dark black casket already dropped into the ground, a mound of dirt piled high next to Luther and Pogo. When none of them say anything, Pogo clears his throat and begins to do it for them. 

“Your father -” He starts, and as soon as the words leave his mouth Klaus can feel the tension in Diego shoot up ten fold. “- while not the most kind man, always had your best interests at heart, as well as mine. I will forever be grateful for the sacrifices he gave for us.” 

Klaus winces.  _ Oh boy, here we go. _

“Our best interests?” Diego snaps, clenching his fists. “What part of forcing us to train to  _ kill  _ was for our best interests? How is trapping us in this god forsaken forest  _ good  _ for  _ any  _ of us?!” 

“Diego-” Allison tries, but he just whips around to her and snarls. 

“Number Two, remember, because he didn’t even care enough about us to give us  _ names!  _ He was a cold-blooded son of a bitch who only wanted us to further his knowledge of the supernatural.” Diego’s eyes are glowing, again, which is  _ wonderful _ for Klaus’ nerves. So is the vicious noise Luther makes as he takes a step forwards, glaring at Diego.

“Shut up,” He snaps, and his own eyes flicker yellow too. “Shut  _ up,  _ Diego.”

“Or what, what’ll you do, big man?  _ Bite me?”  _ Diego side steps the hole in the ground, moving past Vanya and their mom as he tries to get closer to Luther. Klaus debates moving back, away from them and the impending fight. 

It’d probably be safer to get away from them, considering they both easily out-weighed him even when he  _ could  _ still turn. He starts taking a step back, too, but freezes when there’s an ominous crack above his head in the tree. Klaus slowly lifts his head, mouth dropping open as a ice-cold rush of fear swells in him. 

_ I _ _ t’s just the wind, or the drugs. It’s nothing real, you’re overreacting.  _

“Dad was a  _ good  _ man!” Luther grits his teeth together, and Klaus can just see him move closer to Diego out of the bottom of his vision. They’re both on the verge of a real fight, now, which is kind of ironic, considering this is a funeral. 

“He was  _ never  _ good, and he was  _ barely  _ a man.” 

Klaus’ eyes follow where he thinks the noise came from, and they land on a dark shadow perched on a tree-branch a good ways above them. 

_ It’s just the drugs, it’s just the drugs, it’s just the d- _

“Watch yourself, Deigo.”

“Why, am I hurting your feelings? Can’t handle the truth about dear old dad? Still sucking up to him even after he’s dead, aren’t you,  _ Number One?”  _

The shape moves, and then there’s two glowing, red eyes staring down at him. They blink.  

_ That’s not the drugs! _

“Guys,” Klaus squeaks out, finally taking that step backwards. No one seems to hear him.

“I’m not sucking up to him, I’m just showing him an  _ ounce  _ of respect. Something I know you barely grasp.” 

“Oh, yeah? Well you’re a-”

_ “Guys!”  _ Klaus shouts, as loud as he can, and he feels everyone's eyes on him,  _ finally.  _ The eyes in the tree stay on him too. 

_ “What?!”  _ Diego and Luther snap at the same time, and Klaus swallows hard and lifts his hand, shakily, up towards the shape in the tree. There’s a tense silence that follows, as everyone turns their heads to look. 

The thing in the tree keeps staring at him, too, which. Just makes everything  _ so much worse.  _

Then he hears someone suck in a sharp breath.

“What the hell-”

The figure jerks, reacting to the noise, lightning quick, and drops down onto the coffin lid with a heavy  _ thump.  _ Everyone takes a jumps backwards in unison, Allison moving a hand in front of Vanya instinctively. The figure remains hunched, kneeling on top of the coffin for another moment, before it sighs loudly and stands back up to its full height. 

Which. Isn’t that much. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt your fight, but we have more important things to worry about.” The figure says, and Klaus freezes, blinking. 

He… recognizes that voice. 

He steps closer and leans down over the edge of the hole, looking down to the figure inside. 

_ How much speed did he take? _

“Does anyone else see Five, or is that just me?”


End file.
